Men and women looked at one another and shrugged or shook their heads. Finally Liaze said, “If you think of ought, then find me.”
After the members of the staff returned to their duties, and the searchers to their task, Liaze read the message from the Summerwood. Tears welled in the princess’s eyes, for the tissue-thin note was full of joy, Alain and Camille congratulating Liaze and Luc on their betrothal.
“Zacharie.”
“Yes, my lady?”
“Send messages to each of the manors and to my pere and mere, and tell them what has passed.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Throughout the day, Eugene, Zacharie, Remy, and Liaze decided what to take on a long journey. They were interrupted several times by members of the staff, each one bringing some speculation or other to the princess’s attention. But they shed no more light upon Skuld’s words.
And as the sun slipped across the sky, messenger falcons arrived bearing congratulations: from Celeste in the Springwood; from Arnot, steward of the Winterwood; and from King Valeray and Queen Saissa. In addition to Valeray and Saissa’s felicitations, they added that they knew nothing of a child abandoned in the woods, nor of a foundling raised by an armsmaster named Leon.
With each of these received messages, tears ran down Liaze’s face, while those with her looked the other way and waited.
During the day as well, the manor remained silent, people yet creeping about, desolation on their faces, for two men were dead, and Luc was gone, and the princess was going away. Only Martine seemed unaffected by the loss of Luc, and she came unto Liaze and said, “We make our own fate, Princess-not some Skuld person. There is no need to leave the manor on a perilous quest simply because of the word of this-this Lady Wyrd. Besides, for you to go off alone to search for nought but a common hedge knight is foolish in the extreme.”
Rage flared in Liaze’s eyes and she snapped, “Tutrice, one more such statement and I will banish you forever from the Forests of the Seasons.”
Martine quailed and fell to her knees. “Oh, my lady, forgive me. Forgive me.”
Liaze stood rigid with anger, and Martine rose to her feet and dipped a humble curtsey and meekly crept away.
Dusk found Liaze and Zacharie and Remy and Eugene in the stable, having just finished the planning for her trek: Liaze would need four packhorses in addition to her own mount and Luc’s. And as they looked over the animals, Didier came running in. “My lady,” he called, and bobbed a short bow, and said, “in the search Patrice and I found a Goblin campsite, well used, though we could only see a single set of footprints, as if a lone Goblin occupied it. Patrice is yet there, warding the place. The campsite has a crow cote, we think for messenger crows, and but one is left. Shall we kill it?”
Even as Remy started to nod, Liaze cried, “No!”
“No?” said Zacharie.
“No,” affirmed Liaze. “A bird shall point the way.”
“The riddle, the rede, Lady Skuld’s words!” exclaimed Remy.
“Indeed,” said Liaze. “Surely the Goblin sent messages to the witch. He must have informed her that Luc had escaped the Troll and Goblin party, and this Goblin kept watch on him.”
“Oh, my,” said Eugene, “perhaps it was that same Goblin that caused the horses, especially Nightshade, to raise a ruckus that first night Luc came.” Eugene looked at Zacharie. “You recall, Steward, it was just before we searched Luc’s goods to see who he might be.” Eugene frowned and added, “And they were disturbed again last night, when the shadow came. Probably the Goblin again.”
“Perhaps it was the same one we slew climbing the wall,” said Zacharie.
Remy turned to Didier. “Find Claude and see if he can tell if more than one Goblin occupied that camp you and Patrice found.”
“Didier,” said Liaze, “find Jean, too, and have him care for the crow and feed it well, for it will point the way to the witch’s abode, and perhaps to Luc.”
As Didier raced away, Eugene growled, “Goblins.”
Remy looked at Liaze and said, “I told you there were more out there.”
“Indeed you did,” said Liaze. “Still, it will not stop me from hewing to Lady Skuld’s words.”
She paused a moment, then said, “Remy, I would have you and your warband search throughout the entirety of the Autumnwood. Mayhap there are other Goblin dens in the demesne, Troll holes too.”
“A difficult task, that, my lady,” said Remy, a pensive look on his face, “for the Autumnwood is wide, and Goblins could be anywhere within.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “Nevertheless, where there is one Goblin, there is likely to be more. We will find a way.”
Liaze wrinkled her brow in thought and then said, “The wee ones can aid you in this. Go to Lord Chaun of the Lynx Riders. Have him and his folk ask the Sprites and other Fey throughout the Wood to bring word of any Redcaps or Ogres or Trolls within the realm. Tell him it is my wish.”
Remy’s face brightened. “Yes, my lady.”
Liaze looked at Eugene and said, “Tomorrow at dawn, saddle Nightshade and lade Luc’s errantry gear thereon. Saddle Pied Agile as well, and lade on my gear. And fit the packhorses with the supplies we discussed. When all is ready, we will release the crow, and I will ride the direction it flies.-Oh, and Zacharie, make certain that the message capsule the crow bears is open and empty, as if whatever message it might have held has been lost.”
“My lady?” said Zacharie.
“Zacharie, we do not want the witch to know that someone is on the way, perhaps following her crow. Instead let her believe that one of her minions elsewhere sent the bird, or that this one simply escaped.”
“Princess,” said Remy, “how can you follow a messenger bird-crow or otherwise? I mean, once they take flight, they are gone, and no horse can keep pace with them.”
“Lady Skuld only promised that a bird would point the way, Armsmaster. I merely intend to ride in the direction of its flight.”
“You will not be able to hew to its exact course, my lady,” said Zacharie.
“If I stray to one side or the other of its line, well, I can only trust in Lady Skuld’s words and fare more or less on the bearing the bird takes.”
“My lady,” said Eugene, “are you certain you want to do this thing-riding out alone on a quest and into the teeth of who knows what perils?”
“Eugene, as I said before, I would not argue with Fate.”
Remy started to say something, then shut his mouth with a click! of teeth.
The next morning, just after dawn, Liaze sat upon Pied Agile, with Nightshade tethered behind, and four gelding packhorses tethered after. Most of the staff was on hand, and many wept, especially Zoe, and even Martine shed tears. Remy and the warband stood at attention nearby, a pained look upon the armsmaster’s face. And Zacharie and the houseguard stood in ranks opposite, the steward with tears in his eyes.
Liaze looked down at Jean; the crow from the lone Goblin’s campsite sat hooded on the falconer’s wrist, an upside-down uncapped message capsule upon the bird’s left leg, as if a missive had been lost along with the absent cap.
“Remember, Jean, Zacharie,” said Liaze, “let not the falcons fly until the crow is long gone.”
“Oui, my lady,” replied Jean.
The princess’s gaze swept across the assembly, and with a confidence she did not feel, she said, “My friends, keep well and do not weep, for just as I place my trust in the words of Lady Skuld, so should you. Luc and I shall soon return.”
A feeble cheer rose from the staff, yet not enough to override the weeping.
“Now, Jean,” said Liaze, “release the bird.”
Jean removed the hood from the crow, and the bird looked about and ruffled its feathers. Jean loosened his hold and cast the dark messenger into the air.
Up it flew and circled about as if taking a bearing, and then it shot off and over the trees, and Liaze watched the line of its flight through the chill autumn air for as long as it could be se
en.
“Remy, it looks to be heading along Luc’s track when he rode knight-errantry into the Autumnwood, but going in the direction whence Luc came,” Liaze said.
“Yes, Princess,” the armsmaster replied. “But as we said last night, keeping on the exact course of a messenger bird cannot be done.”
“Nevertheless, I go, and, should I come out somewhere else altogether, Lady Skuld said I would find help along the way.”
Liaze took a deep breath and waved to those gathered on the lawn and called out “ Au revoir! For we shall meet again!” She then heeled her horse in the flanks and rode across the lawn and into the woods, towing the other animals after.
Behind her the weeping intensified, though both the warband and the houseguard managed a respectable cheer. And as the princess vanished among the trees, Zoe turned to Remy and said, “Oh, Remy, where is she bound?”
“Sunwise, Zoe,” said Remy. “She rides for the sunwise marge of the Autumnwood, for that’s the way the crow flew. Beyond that, only time and the Fates will tell.”
16
Wing-to-Wing
Into the greens and reds and golds and umbers and russets and browns of the Autumnwood rode Liaze: into the embrace of yew and cedar and pine, and of oak and maple and elm, and of cherry and apple and other such trees, all of them readying themselves for a slumber that never comes; into the fragrance of fruits and grains and berries and other ripened harvest everlasting she went, as well as into the bouquet of autumnal blossoms abloom in the sweet loam. Liaze did not look back toward the manor at the members of the staff calling out their good-byes, for to do so would reveal her tears and belie the face of courage she wore. And so, towing a stallion and four gelding packhorses, on she rode, deeper into the woodland, until she could no longer hear the sounds of weeping and farewell.
At last Liaze wiped away the tears on her cheeks, and after a moment she found her voice and reached forward and patted her mount’s neck. “Where will we end up, Pied Agile, eh? Somewhere on the far side of the daystar, I think. May our goal not be too distant, for time is short, and a black mountain I must find, or so Skuld’s rede would have it be:
In the dark of the moon but two moons from now A scheme will be complete,
For on a black mountain an ever-slowing heart Will surely cease to beat.
“It must be Luc’s heart she speaks of, or so it is I deem…
“So it is I fear…
“And we have but this day and fifty-six more ere the dark of the moon two moons from now falls due. Why is it time has so little meaning in Faery except when peril is involved?
“Oh, Agile, I feel the need to gallop! — But where? Along the course a crow did fly is the only thing I know. And even then, I cannot be certain I will hew to its line. And with the twilight boundaries being what they are, an error one way or the other could put me in a realm remote from where I should go.”
As she rode onward, in the trees of the surround and down among the grasses and undergrowth, furtive movement and rustlings kept pace with her progress. And from the corners of her eyes, Liaze could now and then catch glimpses of wee folk trotting alongside or riding small animals or flitting among the branches of the leafy overhead.
Of a sudden, Liaze slapped a palm to her brow. “Ahhh! How stupid of me!” Yet faring at an amiable gait, she looked up into a tree, and called out, “Be there any Sprites among you?”
Moments later, one of the tiny, iridescent-winged creatures flew down and managed to stay hovering in front of Liaze, even though the princess was yet moving forward, the wee being drifting backwards to match her pace. Liaze could see the Sprite was a female, for, as with all of her Kind-male and female alike-she wore no garments whatsoever. Flaming red hair this tiny Sprite had, and she held a strung bow in hand, and a miniscule quiver of arrows was strapped to her thigh.
“Yes, Princess?”
“Ah, good,” said Liaze. “You know me.”
The Sprite cocked her head and asked, “Doesn’t everyone?”
Liaze laughed and the Sprite giggled in return. “And your name, little one?” asked Liaze.
“Feuille, my lady.”
“Ah me, Feuille, I was so stupid this morning-”
A look of shock briefly registered on the face of the hovering Sprite. “My lady, I know not what to say. How could you possibly be, um…”
“Stupid,” said Liaze.
“Your word, not mine,” said Feuille, even so, she grinned.
Liaze gestured to her forebow. “Alight, Feuille, and I’ll tell you why I am so stupid.”
The just-under-two-inch-tall Sprite settled on the very tip of the high-arched saddlebow, and Liaze said, “This morning I set loose a messenger bird, one I meant to follow: a crow.”
“A corvus?” Feuille leapt into the air, her wings beating frantically. “That was your crow with the message capsule? Oh, Princess, why did you-?”
“Shush, tiny one, and settle down,” said Liaze. “It was not my crow, but rather one that belongs to a witch, a witch, I add, who has done me great harm, and one who might do the world great harm as well.”
Somewhat reluctantly, Feuille lit once more on the forebow. “Crows are our deadly enemies, Princess. Why, if they get a chance, they’ll take Sprites right out of the air or from nests or perches and swallow them whole. Why do you think I have this bow, these arrows? Crows, that’s why. The whole of Autumnwood Spritedom has been on alert these last several days, for there have been entirely too many of those black killers flying above your demesne.”
“Ah, good!” exclaimed Liaze.
Again, Feuille’s face registered shock. “Good? You think that’s good?”
“Oh, not that crows fly over the Autumnwood, Feuille. Rather that the entirety of Spritedom is alert for them. You see, I need to follow the line of those messengers, and if the Sprites know the birds’ course, that will be an immense help to me in running down their mistress.”
“Oh, well, that’s different, my lady,” said Feuille, relaxing. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
“Well, that’s why I was so stupid,” said Liaze, “for, in hindsight, before releasing the witch’s bird I should have thought to ask the Sprites of Autumnwood to follow the crow and let me know whence it flew.”
“Hindsight you say, my lady? Well in hindsight many things are, um, er…”
“Stupid,” said Liaze, smiling. “Still, I am so glad I met you, Feuille, for Lady Skuld said-”
“Lady Skuld?” blurted Feuille, nearly taking to flight. But at a small calming gesture from Liaze the Sprite took a deep breath for one of her size and let it out and managed to settle.
“You met Lady Wyrd herself?” Feuille took another deep breath. “Oh, my, something hazardous must be on the wing.”
“Indeed, Feuille, though I know not what it might be. Regardless, she told me that I would meet both perils and help along my trek, but that I should beware and make certain I know which is which. And you, Feuille, and the rest of Spritedom, are surely an aid.”
“You are our liege, Princess. Of course we will aid.”
“Then about these crows…”
“My lady, most have been flying in the direction you follow. I will dart ahead and speak with other Sprites and determine the line and thereby I’ll keep you on course.”
“Oh, no, Feuille, for I cannot have you accompany me more than but a short way.”
“Princess, why not? I am certain that I can be of help.”
“Oh, you most assuredly could, yet let me tell you of Lady Skuld’s rede…”
“Hmm…” mused Feuille. And then she chanted:
For should you take a few with you,
Most Fear would likely slay.
Instead ride with the howling one
To aid you on the way.
Feuille frowned in puzzlement. “What does that mean?”
“I think I’ll not know until I meet the so-called howling one,” said Liaze.
“Well, I propo
se that I wing ahead and find the next Sprite who watched the flight of the crows, and then that one can fly onward to the next and so on, and altogether, we Sprites can, um…” Feuille cast about for the right word.
“Hand me from Sprite to Sprite along the line,” suggested Liaze. “I believe it is called a relay.”
“Ah, yes,” said Feuille, “a relay. And that is exactly what we’ll do: pass you from wing to wing to keep you on the course of the witch’s messenger.”
“Let us hope such a plan will keep you and the others out of Fear’s way,” said Liaze.
“I am not certain that Fear would do any of us in,” said the Sprite. “Nevertheless, we will not go against Lady Wyrd’s rede.”
Feuille took to wing and hovered a moment in the air and said, “As you ride on, I will go ahead and locate the next Sprite who watched the crows over these past few days. Then we will find you farther along, Princess, and there I’ll hand you off to whoever it is that will fly the next leg.”
“This is Brindille,” said Feuille. “She has sent her mate, Rameau, ahead to find the next guide. But she will keep you on the line until you meet up with him.”
“Merci, Feuille,” said Liaze, humbly.
“May your quest bear sweet nectar, my lady,” said Feuille, and she flew up and darted back in the direction whence she had first come.
“Au revoir, Feuille, tiny guide,” Liaze called after the winging Sprite, but she had disappeared among the foliage from which she had taken her name. Liaze then turned to Brindille, and that female Sprite said, “After me, my lady,” and off she flew.
Throughout the morning a succession of Sprites led the way toward the sunwise border of the Autumnwood, and as Liaze rode, other wee ones followed along in the underbrush or scampered among the branches above.
Liaze stopped several times to let the horses take water at running streams, and she also fed them each a bit of grain from the goods stored in the packs.
And the sun rode up in the sky and across, and Liaze herself paused for a meal as the golden orb reached the zenith, the princess sharing her repast with Arbuste, who only took a few crumbs from one of her biscuits, though he did enjoy a spot of honey from the drop she dripped into the jar lid.
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